


On My Command

by millionstar



Category: Muse (Band)
Genre: Language, M/M, Smut, non-au
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-05
Updated: 2015-04-05
Packaged: 2018-03-21 09:05:47
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,272
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3686394
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/millionstar/pseuds/millionstar
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Just a Psycho-inspired PWP. Warning: smut be here.</p>
            </blockquote>





	On My Command

**Author's Note:**

  * For [dolce_piccante](https://archiveofourown.org/users/dolce_piccante/gifts).



His own bliss has already been recognized; all I can do is watch as it slides slowly over my abdomen, across one of my nipples. Even still, more is traveling further down my body. I groan as it seeps into the tip of my own erection.

Yes, his own bliss has already been recognized; he’s more interested now in _if_ he will allow me to find my own. That is something I am rather interested in myself, so I dare to steal a glance at him.

I find him there, perched at the end of a long leather seat. Or, rather, I find him perched at the end of our impromptu fuckspace in the back of a sleek, expensive, and thankfully abandoned, black limousine. He is as naked as I am, and I can tell he’s still coming down from his orgasm by the way his chest is still rising and falling. His eyes, though, are boring right into my soul. They are clear and grey and singularly focused. There was a time when those eyes looked like those of an angel’s, but now that his hair has deepened in tone, he looks more like a beautiful devil.

_My_ beautiful devil.

He crosses his legs, his head cocked to one side like he’s looking for an answer to a question that he hasn’t yet posed. I do wonder if he likes what he sees. My arms are beginning to get sore from being bound above my head, and the gag in my mouth is just as uncomfortable. There is a deliberate decadence in the way that I am laid out before him across this seat - my legs spread, hips occasionally arching in frustration, searching for a friction that he is choosing to deny me.

Now, his eyes are scanning my body, like he’s trying to form a precise plan of attack. In my impatience I whimper, once, and he smiles.

The fucker _smiles_.

Blessedly, he deigns to fall to his knees. He crawls closer to me, his necklace glistening in the semi-darkness. I can feel my pulse thundering in various parts of my body. Every inch of my skin is singing out a plea for his touch, so when his lips finally press against my thigh, I cannot suppress the shudder that washes over me

His mouth is on me again, hot and wet as it travels up and across my frame. Moist, sucking kisses are dropped everywhere - my hipbone, across my waist and further up my chest. My eyes roll back into my head when he latches onto my nipple. He lavishes attention on it, licking all evidence of his release from it. The very act is a form of ignition, setting my body aflame, and belatedly I am now aware that he’s grown thick and stiff yet again, for I can feel him pressing against me.

I open my eyes just as he is leaving a mark against my collarbone, my vision filling with a head of dark hair, miles of skin, and one impressive erection a mere breath away from my own. I whimper again when he licks around the curve of my shoulder, up and over directly against the skin of my underarm. He knows what this does to me, so he repeats the motion, lapping agonizingly slowly, the feeling of his tongue against the hair there whipping me into a fevered frenzy. Sensation engulfs me. It threatens to devour me completely, until I realize he has lifted his mouth off and is now straddling me.

He cradles my head, using the back of his hand to sweep the sweat soaked hair from my brow. The pad of his thumb caresses my cheekbone. One fingertip traces my lips, his eyes staring at the silk filling my mouth. I blink, staring at him in a silent entreat to remove it, but it has no effect on his resolve. He leans in and licks at the corner of my mouth, one hand sliding between us to gift me with a couple of firm, tight strokes that feel like a benediction. I cry out in relief.

However, even this is only a temporary reprieve.

Desperation bubbling up all around me, I tug at my restraints with another whimper. In reply he merely puts one finger up in front of me in admonishment.

It is a rebuke.

He rises, as much as he can in the limousine, and turns away from me. He then kneels in front of me again, parting his legs, looking at me over one shoulder with the filthiest grin on his face as he spreads his legs even wider.

When I see the plug, I nearly empty my balls on the spot. Somehow, I manage to keep it together, rivulets of sweat cascading down my chest now to mix with the spunk he showered me in earlier. Satisfied with his little reveal, he climbs back into my lap.

In one frantic, yet somehow elegant, motion, he removes the plug from his core, tosses it aside and sinks onto me, my dick screaming out in eternal praise of the heat and wet pressure now consuming it.

I wish you could see him, head thrown back, lips parted in ecstacy as he rides me. He’s practically an obscene dream come to life in my arms. He plants one hand on the blacked-out window to brace himself, while pulling at one of his nipples with the other, my dick responding to and reveling in every scene of his performance. The sounds coming from within him are a thing of lewd beauty, a combination of grunts and moans and a holy litany of curse words. Now his hand is on his dick and oh, I am aching to touch him and I am aching to come and I am aching, aching, endlessly fucking _aching_ for this man.

He rises and falls, setting a punishing pace for himself. I know this rhythm. It won’t be long for either of us. Our eyes meet and I beg him, wordlessly, one last time, to release me. This time he is willing, frantically loosening my bonds and pulling the silk gag from between my lips. My arms are boneless at first and unable to reach for him, but he pulls me close and our mouths meet in a frantic wet kiss, each of us gasping into it. It’s not so much a kiss as it’s a messy meeting of our mouths and tongues and breath, but it’s glorious.

I am surprised when he spills between us with a shout and multiple shudders, his eyes falling closed, lips still parted as he continues to pull roughly on his dick in search of every drop of pleasure he can find. I’m still desperately bucking up into him, and something in him snaps, for while I’m still inside him he pulls me up and down into the floorboard. He wraps his legs around my back as I pound into him relentlessly, his nails digging sharply into the skin on my back.

As I finally come, I can feel the blood running down my back. It makes my orgasm that much more intense. It seems to go on and on, my body unwilling to relinquish this moment, unwilling to part from him, unwilling to move an inch forward in my life without this creature by my side. It’s a revelation.

It’s an epiphany.

When I finally gather up the strength to lift my head and look into his eyes, which are now smiling at me like the angel he sometimes is, I know that, most of all, it’s a promise.

 


End file.
